One Final Visit
by FionaTailynn
Summary: One Shot epilogue to the "Inevitable" series, folowing "One More Visit" /story/story preview.php?storyid 8620928 John gives Sherlock his last goodbyes...


_London, 18__th__ November 2015_

It was drizzling a little. John hadn't noticed until he saw the drops roll down the black tombstone in front of him. He'd waited for everyone to leave so he could speak his last words to Sherlock privately. After a while he deemed the time correct and walked over to the dark stone with his best friend's name engraved on it.

"Hi… Well, here we are again. Only this time, I'm one hundred percent sure of that you are gone, because well… I ensured it.

"Sorry about that.

"Anyway, don't worry, I'm not planning to end my life like I was… actually it was only three days ago. But, I think a lot more than three days happened between then and now. Literally." He chuckled slightly.

"Back then, I didn't understand why you had to leave, why it was your time, and not mine. I didn't know why you'd told me that you were a fake, or how you even got the idea of jumping off that hospital.

"But then I met someone." He sighed. "Someone who helped me get out of my misery, helped me understand, helped me get back to you, and helped me to spend just that little bit more time with you. And he's the reason I know I'll be all right. I know he's watching over me." John stared up for a moment, and just for a second, he thought he saw a little police box flying across sky.

"This world still thinks you're a fraud; someone who only wanted power and attention (which is also why I couldn't get too many people to come here today). But after what I've seen in the passed couple months; my last months with you, and when I was shown what really happened on that roof top, I know that that's wrong, and that you deserved to be remembered as a good man. I know you'd never admit it, but inside, that's all you are: a good man. So I've decided it's my job to prove to the world that you are one."

John was close to breaking down in tears, but instead he remained calm and kept on smiling.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. I guess I just needed to tell someone. And however deep down you may be buried; you'll still always be my best friend.

"Don't get me wrong, I _will_ miss you. I'll miss you like hell, but it'll be okay. And somehow, I know that just like _he_ is right now, you're looking after me too. After all, that was pretty much what you were doing the last time you were dead. So thank you. And not just for what you did just three days ago, or when you jumped off that roof to save me, but also thank you for having met me. I couldn't have asked for any better times than the ones I had with you. Every life must end. But our friendship will survive beyond that. I hope you know that, but then again, you might've deleted it. Just try to hang on to it this time, okay?

"Goodbye, Sherlock. Rest in peace."

He turned around and headed for the exit of the graveyard. John absently watched the birds chirp in the nearby trees when suddenly he bumped into someone.

"I'm terribly sor-" he then caught a glimpse of the beautiful woman in front of him "-ry."

"Oh it's fine." She smiled a little. She had long blonde hair and blue-grey eyes. Just like Sherlock's eyes...

She was carrying a bouquet of white lilies. They were almost slipping out of her hands because she was carrying two shopping bags as well.

_She spontaneously bought them while shopping; must be someone who's been dead for a while…_

_Wow, you're getting the hang of that, aren't you? _He said to himself and smirked a tiny bit.

"Here, let me take those bags for you."

"That is very kind of you." She smiled again and handed him her grocery bags.

"Who are you visiting? Or… no I'm sorry, that wasn't right to ask."

"No, it's fine. They're for my father. He died when I was eighteen."

"I'm very sorry to hear that." They arrived at his grave and she gently placed the bouquet over it. After a moment of silence she got back up and turned her head to John.

"Why are _you_ here?" she asked.

"…My best friend died three days ago." They started walking towards the exit, John still holding the groceries for her.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"No, it's okay. I know he's fine… Oh, sorry I'm rude, I haven't introduced myself: I'm John Watson by the way." He put one bag down so he could reach out his hand to her. She smiled and gladly shook it.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Mary, Mary Morstan."


End file.
